Reflected Emotions
by Exsanguine
Summary: Sequel to Love Eternally. Not enough room for full summary. Click to read the summary.
1. Prologue: Sailing on Acceptance

**Summary:**

Disapproving of Eragon and Arya's newfound relationship, Islanzadi sets a challenge for Eragon, to prove the strengths of his love. After all, the easiest way to see how close a relationship is to pull it farther. If he succeeds, Arya will be his and no more of the matter will be discussed. If not, he may never see Arya again…

The challenge is nothing like what Eragon has experienced before. Swords, strength and power are useless in the tasks, for the challenge is not based on physical stats. It is a test of his true moral standards. New dangers question Eragon's mind and soul, his blade of metal has been replaced with his heart, the only weapon strong enough to complete the set tasks.

Would his love for her be **strong enough** to make him take up the challenge? Or is it **so strong** that he will not risk it at all?

--Prologue: Sailing on Acceptance

The sun's morning rays warmed Eragon's face as a soft glow bathed the ship in radiant light. A soft wind, barely felt, rustled through the silver sails, the flickering of the thin material the only sign of its presence. Eragon stifled a yawn; the calmness of his surroundings had a laxative effect on him.

Slowly cracking open one eye, he eyed the ship through narrowed slits. Feeling a slight weight on his shoulder, he gently turned his head around to see Arya leaning her head on him. A smile lifted his lips as he watched her, oblivious of his gaze. How he loved her.

Gently, so he didn't waken her, he quietly withdrew his embrace from around Arya and slipped out from under her head. Gentler yet, he lowered her to the ground, where his self-made pillow had lain unnoticed all night. She shifted in her half sleep but made no other movement.

Standing up, he stretched, easing his cramped muscles. The elven guards had already awakened and were scattered casually all over the deck, though still there was some beauty in that. They inclined their heads to acknowledge his presence before lapsing back into the dreamy state of meditation which they had acquired throughout most of the journey.

Smiling, Eragon remembered how fleetingly the past two days had passed. Everything was a haze, smothering him like a blanket yet as untouchable as the smoke of a dying fire.

By now, the elves accompanying them had worked out Eragon and Arya's newfound relationship. They didn't question it; rather Eragon could see the spark in their eye which indicated their knowledge. He was thankful they didn't ask.

And even if that wasn't a big enough clue, they began to sing songs and ballads dedicated to their love. Eragon immersed himself in their voices every time they sang; it was glorious and mesmerizing. They sang of the never-ending love between the two riders, strengthened daily by their two dragons of blue and green.

After the first day, Arya had quietly requested for them to stop singing those songs, for each and every one was about the love bonded by the dragons, yet not by the riders themselves.

Instead of feeling pity or hurt, Eragon had responded good-naturally. Seeing Arya uncomfortable about the true nature of the songs only served to make him love her even more, for if she were as perfect as he could wish, there would be no glory in that, no point in living together when everything is flawless.

Shielding his eyes, Eragon looked up into the brightening sky where Saphira and Faowing were flying close together, it seemed even the night didn't render their flight. Sighing happily, he returned his gaze to the almost silent ship, slicing through the water so gracefully that ripples barely touched the surface of the water.

Everything was serene and relaxing. The journey, if not sweet was sweeter, even if he wasn't allowed much private time with Arya. Time was ageless now, day passed into night, unnoticed.

Gradually, Eragon's former world of training and constant plotting seemed to dissolve and be swallowed up by this new life of quiet peace. Peace…the one thing he had strived for such a long time was now finally granted.

_I can get used to this,_ Eragon mused lazily as he padded over to the bow of the ship, savoring the feel of his boots as they moved across the polished deck. Reaching out, he held onto the railing, closing his eyes and throwing his head back to allow the morning sun to warm his upturned face.

The sun, so it seemed, decided to grant his wish, and spread his pulsing tendrils all over Eragon's face and body, warming him while giving his face a radiant glow, he may as well have been the sun himself.

Something smooth slid over his hand and opening his eyes, Eragon saw Arya make her way next to him. She was looking out towards the horizon, the sun's reflection flickering in her eyes.

"Is it not the perfect day?" she asked him, turning to look at him for the first time.

"It is," Eragon murmured, "and may it be the perfect day every other day of our futures."

A silence fell and leaning over the railing of the ship, Arya skimmed her slender fingers over the water, causing ripples of protest to explode around her touch. Sighing, she withdrew her hand again and continued to watch the endlessly fluid movement of the water, watching as it flowed past, and be torn apart under the wooden touch of the ship's hull.

Eragon moved closer to her, squeezing her hand slightly. "Is something wrong?" he asked Arya.

"I am afraid," Arya whispered in answer, though not looking up at him.

And for the second time in his life, Eragon was stunned into silence. Hearing Arya speak of her fears was still an alien thought to him. Faced with yet another situation which he had no experience with, Eragon was reluctantly forced to do nothing; there was nothing he could do without risk of either offending Arya or making her more evasive with her answer.

Turning around, Arya slowly made her way back to the middle of the ship, clearly not intending to talk whether Eragon considered doing so or not. Before she had stepped more than two steps, Eragon followed her and grabbing her hand, turned her to face him again.

"What is wrong Arya?" he asked again, this time, she was _not_ going to get away. He tilted his head slightly to take a look at Arya's reaction but as usual there was none.

"I don't know…" she began slowly.

"How can you not know?" Eragon asked confused.

"You misunderstand me, you didn't allow me to complete my sentence," Arya replied, eyes silently warning him to not interrupt. He obeyed. "I don't know what Islanzdi will say about this…"

Only then did the prospect of winning Islanzdi's approval fall onto Eragon. "Oh." He really couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Oh? Is that all you can say?" Arya sniffed disdainfully. "Do you know how troublesome she can be?"

"Arya, don't talk about your mother like that…"

"No. Don't talk to me like you're my mother either," Arya snapped, annoyance edging into her voice. Catching the look of hurt in Eragon's eyes, she softened her tone. "Look, I apologize. I'm just…nervous about what she'll say."

"But you don't know what she will say. Maybe she agrees with this."

Arya shook her head grimly, her hair twirling around her face as if blown by wind, if there was a wind. "You still don't understand. The Queen is the one who decides on what happens and what doesn't. If she doesn't agree, then none of the elves will."

"You are so pessimistic, Arya." Eragon nudged her, trying to lighten her glum moods. It didn't work.

It never seemed to.

"No, I am not a pessimist, I'm a realist." Was that scorn in her voice?

"Ah, but then you are merely ignorant," Eragon knew he was risking it all, attempting to insult Arya again, "for there is a chance that Islanzdi will approve of our relationship."

Arya scoffed, quickly looking around her, "Queen Islanzdi is not one to be fooled. She can tell, instantly, if something is destined to be good or bad."

"Then let us strive to persuade her that we are destined for good."

"But what if we're not?" she asked him quietly, tugging him closer. "I can't imagine what it'll be like without you."

Eragon paused for a second before regaining his confidence. "If all should fail, then let it. If no one approves of our love, then let them. I care not what others say of us, I only care for what we say of each other. I love you too much to let you go, if they don't understand that…I say let them see and understand their fill."

Arya smiled and embraced Eragon. "You are more than the foolish young I first met in Gil'ead."

Eragon snorted softly, before saying, "And you are more than the arrogant elf I first rescued from Gil'ead."

Arya pulled herself away from Eragon, all previous feelings of affection gone. She glared at him coldly. Eragon just looked at her before laughing.

"Come," Eragon said, reaching out for Arya's hand. "It is time we test the strength of our love."

"What if we cannot prevail? What if we fall?"

Eragon gave her an encouraging smile.

"Then we fall together."

-----

Islanzdi sat high on her throne, nervously caressing the long shaft of her scepter. A part of her lay in nervous awaiting, waiting for the return of Eragon and Arya while another part of her throbbed nervously at what she would find.

During their absence, she had heard rumors, there seemed to be quite a few of them. But most of them, she discarded instantly, as useless snatches of information bound to die out soon anyway.

No, the two which were held utmost in her mind and constantly presenting itself to her were ones which involved Eragon and Arya. The first being of Eragon's strangely murderous dreams (how hadn't she learnt of them yet?) and the other of the possible blooming of a relationship between the murderous dream stricken Eragon and her daughter, and sole heir to the throne.

_It couldn't happen, and won't happen. They are just too different, how will such things come about? Surely they won't be that blind to not notice,_ Islanzdi thought as she got up and paced the room for the fifth time that hour. They should be arriving any day now…

One of the elves guarding the door quickly came in and after bowing hastily, announced Eragon and Arya's arrival. Islanzdi nodded her head to admit them. Quickly placing aside all prejudices, she stopped her pacing and awaited their entry. She will give them a fair chance, a fair listening without any other thoughts and rumors weighing her mind.

Eragon and Arya strode in, side by side. Instantly, all her prejudices returned in full force as she coldly eyed their entwined hands. The room was filled with deathly silence as everyone waited for the other to speak first.

When nothing was forthcoming, Islanzdi drew herself to her full height, eying Eragon and Arya carefully before saying, "Will anyone care to explain this?"

-----

There was another silence, which weighed heavily in the air. Taking a deep breath, she withdrew her hand from Eragon's and took a step forward. Almost instantly, Eragon's hand shot out and wrapped itself around her wrist.

Arya looked from her wrist to his face. In his eyes shone a look, a look which she had barely seen before, in it was determination, power and even more curiously, fear.

_No Arya,_ he said telepathically, _I think this one is for me to answer and stand up to._

Giving him a faint smile, she replied, _Very well, do what you must but let no one poison the way you feel about this. _

_I won't. _

_I love you. _

_And I, you. _

Eragon broke the contact with Arya's mind and returned his gaze to Islanzdi. Clasping his hands behind his back, he stepped forward. Arya saw his hands shake, how she longed to soothe him.

But this was it, the turning point in their relationship. Then how come it felt as if she would never see them together again?

Love, such a powerful thing on its own…

… What happens when it is faced with others equally powerful?


	2. Accepted Denial

--Accepted Denial

Eragon bowed before Islanzadi, and said, "Islanzadi Drottning. Atra esterni ono thelduin."

"Atra du evarinya ono varda." Islanzadi replied, however, this time, her voice lacked the gentleness it had possessed on their last meeting.

"Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr." Eragon said, completing the greeting. Saphira repeated the ritual and though still not too pleasant, Islanzadi's tone was dramatically improved towards her.

Islanzadi regarded Eragon silently, waiting for him to speak first. He shot one quick look at Arya before taking a deep breath. _It's now or never… _He told himself firmly. "In my past few years of knowing Arya, I have found that I have strong feelings for her," he began carefully, not wanting to get on Islanzadi's wrong side.

_Well, that must be hard to tell…_ Islanzadi mused, thinking of their previously entwined hands.

"And now, with Arya feeling the same way, we have declared our love for each other," Eragon finished.

Murmurs swept through the throne room as the elves looked towards each other, discussing the new relationship which had finally been brought to life. Suspect it, yes, but to actually see that it had bloomed was a totally different matter.

The only person in the room not partaking in the discussion was Islanzadi. She stood there, looking down at Eragon, scrutinizing him, calculating him. Eragon shifted uncomfortably on the spot, his face felt flushed from both her cold gaze and the fact he was the topic of chat amongst the elves.

_Why is she looking at me like that?_ Eragon wondered, bewildered.

Only when the chatter had died down and the elves had resumed their silent postures, did Islanzadi speak again. "Would your love be strong enough to make you do anything for Arya?"

"Yes." Eragon didn't even need to pause to think, it was an obvious question with an obvious answer. "I would give my life to protect hers."

_A sweet thing to say, but would you stand up to that decision?_ Islanzadi had to force herself from asking that one question. "So you would do whatever humanely possible to win my approval?"

Eragon nodded his head, "Aye that too is true." He wanted nothing less than approval. What was the point of a relationship when you have to live amongst others who despise the idea of it?

"Then you will take on a challenge, set by me to test your skills and to see the extents of your loyalty?" Islanzadi asked him, watching him intently for his reactions.

Eragon paused for a second, afraid of answering Islanzadi's question. _What was Islanzadi trying to tell him?_

"I see you are hesitant," Islanzadi said, misinterpreting Eragon's silence. "Is your love so strong you fear of losing it?"

"No, I do not understand what you are trying to tell me to do," Eragon replied quickly, hoping to clear up any uncertain matters.

"I have set a challenge, one which will prove the strength of your passion for my daughter," Islanzadi repeated, "to see whether this is the right thing."

Eragon felt dismayed, he had thought the time of completing dangerous tasks and journeys was over by now. Clearly, Islanzadi didn't share the same reasoning. Hadn't he endured enough to be allowed to stay with Arya without question?

"Must I prove my love through physical means? Are the words coming off my tongue not strong enough to convince you so?" he cried glumly.

"And what makes you think you are good enough to suit my daughter?" Islanzadi challenged a cold edge to her voice.

The gathered elves stirred restlessly. Though Eragon's service was no longer needed because of Galbatorix's death; he was still a rider, which automatically placed him in a position demanding respect.

Arya stared at her mother in disbelief before stepping forward and taking hold of Islanzadi's arm, whispered, "Come."

Eragon watched as Arya led Islanzadi away. He felt compelled to call after her, to tell her to not bother; he wasn't good enough anyway but refrained from doing so when he saw the look of anger in Arya's eyes as she had glared at her mother earlier.

No one was going to step in between them and their love.

-----

Arya led her mother into another room, near the back of the chamber they were occupying before. Only when they were out of earshot, did Arya spin around to face her mother, hair whipping around her face, sharpening her already angered features.

"How could you?" she hissed at Islanzadi, eyes flashing dangerously. "How could you _ask_ such a thing?"

Islanzadi slowly clasped her hands behind her back, staring back at Arya with calm eyes, betraying no emotion. "Arya, you know as well as I do that Eragon's race is never to be trusted with these sorts of intimate matters."

Arya sighed, "Aye, but that's his race. Eragon is not like them, I should know."

"Yes, you _should_," Islanzadi said quietly, taking a step towards her daughter. "But you should also know of the dream, the one of when he kills you."

Arya glared at her mother, she couldn't think of anything to say. How did her mother find out so quickly?

Islanzadi smiled grimly, "Ah, so I see you are aware of the dream. Have you, or have you not once considered your safety of being so close to him?"

Arya raised her head defiantly. "Yes, but there is nothing to be afraid of. He is cured now, the dreams won't happen."

"But if it does happen," Islanzadi persisted.

"Then when that time comes, I will protect myself."

Islanzadi pursed her lips, her daughter proved to be a lot harder to sway. "I do not agree with it," she sniffed, unable to think of a retort.

"Eragon and I have already proved our love for each other. We do not require your consent as well," Arya replied, the cool in her voice returning rapidly.

Islanzadi raised an eyebrow. "So you are with child?"

Arya sighed, exasperated. "No, but that is not the only way to prove one's love. What we may see as proof may be as different to the person beside us."

"This is a mistake," Islanzadi whispered softly, "you will see when he accepts the challenge and then the flaws of your relationship are finally uncovered."

"He will not accept the challenge," Arya said, though she was uncertain, "he will know to risk one's life for another's amusement is foolish, especially when placing all we have in danger."

Islanzadi looked at Arya impassively; she truly couldn't understand why Arya cared so much for this human. "You speak of true love as if you know it better than anyone else in the world."

"Perhaps I do."

"Then how about Faolin?" Islanzadi demanded, "Was that too, true love? Or is he just a flimsy attempt at what Eragon is so dearly to you?"

Arya flinched; Islanzadi had struck a nerve there. A new set mixture of rage and hurt flittered in her eyes, as she felt Islanzadi try push her and Eragon apart even further, even worse now, that she was dragging Faolin into it. "What I felt towards Faolin is none of your business," she finally hissed, almost a choke, she was still smarting from Islanzadi's attack.

Islanzadi noticed what she had done and instantly adopted a gentler tone. She softly placed a hand on Arya's trembling shoulder, saying, "Arya, I only want what is best for you."

Arya laughed humorlessly as she shrugged her shoulder free. "The best for me? After disowning me for seventy years you finally realize that you want the best for me?"

Now it was Islanzadi's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Arya, I have already said, I regret what I had done though I cannot take back my actions. But now, I can aid you."

Arya regarded Islanzadi coolly, the emotion drained from her face. "Mother, in the past seventy years, I have become someone I scorn. I cannot escape from this, as I cannot evade my shadow. I am no longer in need of your protection, I have learnt to fend for myself," she said bitterly through gritted teeth.

"But let me this once help you…you are making the wrong choice."

"Then perhaps you are wrong to think that. Perhaps you were wrong to think that I would be the daughter who will forgive and forget," she paused, trembling slightly, uncertain why she dared to say so much. "No one but Eragon has come close enough to understanding me, do not pretend you do."

Islanzadi lifted her chin, pain flashing in her eyes. "But I am learning," she whispered quietly.

"As I have learnt," Arya hissed, jabbing her face into Islanzdi's. "That family is always the most determined to hurt you."

With that, Arya breezed past Islanzadi and stormed out. Islanzadi didn't bother stop her; she knew it was no use. The part that stung her most wasn't the words which Arya had said; it was the fact that she had spoken them in the ancient language. A tear rolled down her cheek, splashing against the cool wood below her feet. _What had made Arya like this?_

"Wyrda!" Blagden screeched solemnly. Islanzadi turned to look at the white raven, perched on a nearby shelf. She hadn't even noticed that the bird had followed them.

Aye, it was fate for Arya to slowly become this after so much time imprisoned by her pride, but was it fate for her to let that take control of her mind and seek to rebel against all tradition?

-----

Arya quickly wiped the tears from her eyes; she would never show weakness before anyone. Not even Eragon. Many thought of her to be a cold, heartless person, but they didn't know her. She'll let the rumors fly from their mouths, she was already numb to its effects, and she didn't care anymore.

She pushed the door to the main hall open and was slightly baffled by the amount of light that blinded her vision. Blinking once to clear the spots, she marched over to Eragon, her fury making her movement harsher than usual. "Come, let us not dwell in the poison of lies any longer," she spat, taking hold of his arm and trying to steer him away.

But Eragon didn't move instead, he stood where he was firmly, decisive. A determined glint shone in his eyes as he held his ground, unwavering. Arya was surprised and proud to see that Islanzadi's comments didn't seem to have much effect on him as it did her.

_But why wasn't he coming?_

"I accept the challenge," Eragon said flatly.

Arya spun around to see Islanzadi walk out into the hall. She averted her eyes, though it was unnecessary because Islanzadi's were as well.

"Understand that to do this challenge is to stand up by yourself," Islanzadi said, "No one is to aid you on this trip. Not even Saphira."

Swallowing, Eragon nodded his head in understanding. Saphira flickered her tail impatiently; she didn't like the thought of leaving Eragon alone.

"Very well," Islanzadi said softly, "Meet here tomorrow morn to receive instructions."

Arya lifted her gaze, her heart was pounding furiously. She looked at Eragon then at Islanzadi, the only people acknowledging of this task. She couldn't believe it. He agreed. He chose to listen to her mother over her.

Turning around, Arya walked into the forest, not sure where she was heading. She stumbled down the path, her head throbbing painfully with all her unanswered questions. She had to escape, the one thing she had become accustomed to. All she knew was that she had to hide from the shame she now felt.

The shame of targeting her mother with her fury, the shame of discovering it had fallen on deaf ears, the shame of her existence to begin with.

It was all…pointless.

**--Author's Note--**

**Hey, sorry I took so long to get this up. I haven't even got an excuse for myself, seeing as this story has already been finished. Well, I'll make sure I don't forget about it next time. Also, I'm still trying to learn how to use the ropes on this site, so if I don't reply to your reviews, I'm very sorry. Is there actually a way of checking for new reviews besides from email?**


	3. Mental Battles

--Mental Battles

She felt sick.

Not physically, but mentally. However, it was irritating her so much is may have been. It was impossible to tell what had possessed him to do it. Of all things to do, he chose to listen to the person determined to rip them apart rather than the one who he slept with at night. It just didn't make sense.

Sighing, she rested her chin on her knees, rubbing her temples, in hopes of clearly her confused thoughts. But as expected, it was no comfort. All it did was make the sides of her head ache.

"Arya."

She looked up to see Eragon staring down at her. Instead of feeling pity or sadness towards his decision, she felt a searing anger. She turned her head away and focused all her attention on the ground between her feet.

Eragon sat down beside her and placed a soothing hand on her tense back. "Arya…please don't be mad."

"Maybe I want to," she answered back stiffly.

"No, you don't. You're just pretending."

So maybe Islanzadi was right about Eragon not really knowing her. "No, I am not. _You_ are the one pretending that I am," she replied hotly. It was beginning to sound like a stupid skirmish between two children.

Eragon sighed; he should've expected this from her when he had accepted. "Arya, please, listen, I had to do the challenge."

"No, you didn't. You knew I didn't care what my mother thought about you. Isn't the only thing that matters is the fact that we are the ones who know we love each other? Isn't that what you had been trying to tell me before on the ship?"

Eragon looked down at the ground; he didn't know how he felt. "Aye, it was. But I must convince the Queen to see from our point of view."

"She doesn't want to…and perhaps she shouldn't either."

"Do you know how hard it will be to have this relationship with her so close by? The challenge is the only way to ease the tension," Eragon answered back, surprised by his own eagerness to complete the challenge.

"Then perhaps, this isn't the place where we should be."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps we aren't supposed to stay here in Ellesméra."

"But it's your home!"

"It hasn't always."

Eragon frowned, confused. "But what would make you want to leave?"

Arya looked at Eragon carefully; she didn't want to give too much away. "The people here are too…judgmental," she finally said.

"The people or the Queen?" Eragon asked, knowing of Arya's unsteady relationship with her mother.

"The Queen then," Arya replied bitterly.

"If this is about the challenge, I personally think she made the right decision," Eragon said slowly, "she has a right to be assured that this is the best for her daughter."

_The best for you…the best for her daughter…_

"Such lies," Arya muttered more to herself than Eragon.

"What?" Eragon asked in confusion.

_Barzul,_ she thought to herself. She had promised not to talk about the conversation she had with her mother earlier. "Nothing," she replied stiffly.

Eragon sighed, was Arya going to always be this complicated? Reaching out, he gently took her face in his hand and turned her head to face him, he could tell there was something she was hiding from him.

"Arya, don't try hide. I know there's something you're not telling me." When she didn't reply, he added, "there is no need to hide, we should have no secrets."

"If you must know," Arya began quietly, "I had a disagreement with my mother over this challenge. Do you know how it feels, to argue over something like that then find out that the person you were defending agrees with the person you were quarrelling with?"

Eragon sat back, _so that's what they were talking about_. But what exactly _did_ they talk about? At his inquires, Arya finally told him about the argument, of everything said. His heart warmed at her protecting him so fiercely, yet another part of him felt uncomfortable.

"You need to apologize," he told Arya.

Arya's eyes blazed angrily, "I will not. Do you think I have come out unscathed from that fight?" she sniffed stubbornly.

"Arya, Arya…must you think like this? You should always ask what you can give, not receive."

Sometimes Arya wished Islanzadi could hear him say intelligent things like this. As for the meaning he tried to get across to her behind the words…

"I will promise to reconsider the challenge if you apologize," Eragon smiled.

Arya scowled at him, must he always bribe her? "Even so, the reconsideration will not weigh any heavier than a feather in your mind."

Eragon laughed, and Arya felt her heart warm. "Probably, but it is a reassuring thought knowing that it will at least be worth a feather rather than nothing, is it not?"

Arya returned his smile hesitantly, "Alright, I will."

Eragon smiled again and pulled her closer to him; she listened to the pounding of his heart, and with each hammer, she was painfully aware of how far away it would sound tomorrow if that feather in his mind was indeed, worth nothing.

-----

Eragon sat outside on the roots of a large oak tree, running his fingers down the smooth wood, savoring the touch which seemed so flawless yet wasn't. Keeping to his promise, he had reconsidered but still, his mind was set firmly on accepting the challenge.

There was no way Arya could stop him, no way humanely possible, anyway.

The doors to the hall creaked opened and Arya strode out towards him. He grinned and pushed himself off the root, his back and legs feeling exceptionally heavy after sitting down so long.

When she was by his side, he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close to his side. She wrapped hers around his, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Never make me do that again."

Eragon laughed softly. "Come on, it wasn't that bad? It did make you feel better, didn't it?"

Arya looked up into his eyes. "Not really."

Eragon shook his head, defeated. "When are you ever going to see things from my point of view?" he complained sarcastically.

"I would prefer not to," Arya replied, nudging him playfully with her elbow.

"You are so selfish. At least I'm willing to see things from your point of view." He let go of her and walked a few steps, mimicking Arya. She glared after him.

"Only joking," he grinned, slipping his arm around her again.

"You are so immature," Arya looked away from him and up into the darkening sky.

"That, I can be," he shrugged, not really caring. "It is getting late; let us return to my room."

Arya nodded, she felt no inclination to return to her home after such a troublesome day. The stars turned in the sky above, glittering jewels of silver in a field of endless navy, beautiful yet haunting. _Much like love,_ Eragon mused.

-----

By the time they got to Eragon's room, the sky had already darkened to a deep blue, so dark they relied upon their keen senses of sight to get around the murky forests. Both dragons were not present when they got there, now that they were back in the sheltered haven of Ellesméra, free from the reign of Galbatorix and threats of danger, they took to flying more and more with each other.

They climbed tediously up the stairs to Eragon's room, by now; he was so accustomed to it that it no longer tired him. He sank down on one side of the bed, dragging Arya after him.

"Are you still intent on completing the challenge?" Arya asked abruptly.

Eragon closed his eyes and held his head between his hands, leaning over the bed. He had hoped she wouldn't question him about it the instant they were back. Arya twisted around to face him, piercing eyes locked on him to prevent escape. "Are you?" she asked quietly.

He looked up at her wearily. "I am." The words held a solemn note to it. It weighed heavily in the air, as if it were a physical object. Arya dropped her gaze, silently observing the covers on his bed.

"Arya…" he began gently, taking hold of her hand. "Have no fear, I will be back."

Arya finally raised her eyes to his. "No, it's not a question of whether you will come back but rather whether you _can_ come back," she murmured, voice barely over a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked, alarmed.

"My mother…is not known for her kindness towards setting tasks. There is no doubt that this challenge will be dangerous, she seeks only to see us apart."

"No, she wants to see whether I am the right one for you."

"That is what she says," Arya said firmly, "Please, ignore her. Few people manage to survive through her tasks."

"Then let me be part of those few who do."

Arya closed her eyes. "Please. Don't."

Eragon smiled sadly, brushing away the hair from her face. "There are things in this world we must do…whether we like it or not."

"Must this be the way it all ends? The final goodbye?"

"No, not a goodbye, but a see you later," Eragon replied softly. "Love has led me to you, and now love leads me on this errand, again, just for you."

"And may love lead us together again later," Arya breathed, holding Eragon close. She knew it was pointless arguing now; there was no way to stop him. Perhaps she could tomorrow, when he was more emotional about leaving, but not tonight…tonight, she will give him that sense of power and control he so desperately wanted.

"Let us drink to our love and future then," Eragon murmured, reaching over and pouring two small flasks of Faelnriv, one for himself and one for Arya. She accepted the glass offered to her and raised it to her lips. Eragon followed suit, eyes watching Arya drink intently.

As she swallowed the last mouthful, Eragon observed as weariness swept over Arya. She sagged against the back of the bed and closed her eyes.

"Tired? Shall we get some rest then?" Eragon asked her.

She merely nodded her head, too tired to speak. He watched as Arya subconsciously slid down the wall and lay on the bed, the empty flash slipping out from between her fingers. He waited until the last echo of the flask striking the ground died away before speaking.

"I'm sorry Arya," he whispered before lowering his own cup onto the bedside table.

It was still full.

--Author's Note--

Again, sorry for not updating sooner. I really should stop doing that Anyway, another question… Is there a way to check if you've replied to a review or not? Thanks. Hopw you enjoyed the chapter :D


	4. Step Forward

--Step Forward

_Author's Note: You know, I seem incapable of remembering to update this story. My apologies. Here's the next chapter. Pretty long chapter here though…As if I didn't split this in two on SFF. Oh well._

--Step Forward

Eragon yawned and opened his eyes blearily. Sweeping his gaze around the room, it settled on Arya, still slumbering on despite the elves' habit of waking early. He smiled sadly at her, why did he dare face the challenge when he may never see her again? He felt guilty at leaving her behind but he knew what must be done.

"I will be back," he murmured to her quietly, hoping he could keep to his oath.

He kissed her lightly on the forehead before quickly strapping his sword to his hip and heading towards the door, grabbing his bow and quiver along the way. It was a coward's way to fight. Up-close combat with swords was considered the brave type. But he didn't care; the bow had always served him well.

Turning around, he took one last look at Arya, the next time he would be given the opportunity was unknown. Unable to help himself, he stalked back to Arya's side, much like a child being told off and hugged her fiercely. He let go and watched her briefly for a few seconds. _Good, she will be out for about another hour. But she's going to wake up with one killer headache,_ he winced in sympathy. He hadn't slackened on the dose, he was afraid it wasn't strong enough.

Before he could change his mind and hop back into bed with her, he marched out to the entrance of Tialdari Hall, where he was instantly met by Saphira, who had risen early to greet him before his trip.

_Good morning, little one,_ she said, stretching out from her cramped position. Nearby, Faowing snorted but made no other movement. Both dragons had taken to sleeping outside because frankly, neither was too keen to see what happened between their riders at night nor was there enough room for the two of them in there.

_Good morning,_ Eragon replied.

Saphira eyed Eragon's sword and bow critically. _My eyes tell me that you are completely positive about taking up the challenge. Am I seeing wrong?_

_Nay, your eyes do not deceive you._

Saphira paused for a moment. _Love is an odd thing. _

Eragon raised an eyebrow at her, grinning. _How much more about love do you know than me?_ He asked her playfully.

_Not much,_ she admitted. _But I know it can make people do stupid things. ___

_Oh no, are you agreeing with Arya?_

_No, I am not. ___

_What's stupid then? The challenge?_

Saphira snorted. _Not that either. Taking the challenge was an honest decision._

Eragon sighed, exasperated. _Then what?_

_Tell me, why did you drug Arya?_ Saphira asked as she swung her massive head around so that Eragon couldn't escape her impassive eye.

Eragon looked down, embarrassed. He ought to have kept him mind closed more tightly. _She was going to stop me, so before she could, I did. ___

_And with a right reason she did. She would be cold-hearted if she didn't consider your safety once. ___

_True… _

They fell silent, listening to the faint whisper of the leaves. Where was Islanzdi?

As if to answer his question, the door to the grand hall opened and Islanzdi stepped out, blinking once to accustom her eyes to the sudden light.

Saphira swung her head around to face Eragon, touching him on the shoulder with her snout. _Be careful, little one. ___

_I will. ___

_I await your return, as well as Arya. ___

_I know…I love you, Saphira. ___

_As do I for you._

Eragon placed his hand on Saphira's neck, feeling it throb with the hum in her throat. Her scales felt hard and uneven, yet they held a haunting grace. After taking one last look at her, he turned and padded over to Islanzdi who stood beaming at him.

"I see you have accepted."

Eragon nodded his head. "I have."

"Are you positive about taking this up? For there will only be two outcomes: failure or success," Islanzdi warned him.

"I am positive," Eragon stated firmly. "There is no glory in having a relationship if the others I live around do not agree with it."

Islanzdi inclined her head to him, "With that, you prove that you are truly ready to take on the tasks."

"I am," Eragon repeated again.

"Very well, I had better explain the tasks to you else you will flounder and become confused later on."

Eragon nodded his head. "It would be appreciated."

"The tasks you will face are none which you have ever faced before." Islanzdi's tone was serious. "Your sword and bow may provide you with some aid but they will not be able to help you when you think you need them most."

Eragon frowned, one hand instinctively reaching down to the pommel of his sword and the other gently touching the shaft of the bow strung across his back. _How will they be no use?_ He thought bewildered.

Islanzdi raised an eyebrow at his obvious distress. "Are you not confident enough to fight with your mind rather than arms?"

"No," Eragon replied hastily, trying to cover up his increasing feeling of embarrassment.

"Hmm," Islanzdi said thoughtfully, still eying him. "Now, the aim of the challenge for you is to navigate through the entire challenge successfully, and then to retrieve the treasure which Arya sought out the most."

"How am I supposed to know what the treasure is?" Eragon asked while in his mind, he went through his memories, seeking out the thing Arya wanted most.

"You should know seeing as you desire her so," Islanzdi said bluntly. "But if you do not, search for the temple which the stars watch over it and the rocks lie before it."

Eragon frowned, was there even such a temple in lore or legend? "Very well, but how am I to come out?"

A faint smile danced across her lips before flitting away. "That is for you to find out."

Confusing thoughts piled Eragon's mind but he knew he should not ask them. Instead, he inclined his head again, surrendering to Islanzdi's brief explanation. "Where shall I start?"

Islanzdi pointed out a path which stretched on behind them; Eragon could've sworn it never existed before. "Just follow the path then when you can walk straight no longer, turn right and you will find a door. Step through it, and do what you must."

"All right. I bid you farewell now, and hope to see you later on," Eragon said politely, bowing at his waist.

Islanzdi smiled and touched him lightly on the brow. "And I, you. May you take my blessing and go forth safely."

Bowing one last time, Eragon swallowed and turned to walk off. Saphira eyed him curiously, her tendrils of thought barely touching him, she knew it would not help if she interfered now.

"Eragon."

For a second, Eragon thought it was Arya who had called him. The Arya who had finally awoken and now made it her task to stop him. But it was only Islanzdi. She tilted her head slightly, watching Eragon carefully.

"Where is Arya? Would she not wish to say a final farewell?"

"No, it is not a final farewell, but a see you later," he replied to Islanzdi, saying exactly the same thing he had said to Arya one night ago. "And she is still…resting."

Before Islanzdi could question him further, he turned and slowly walked towards the earthly path that stretched out before him. Suddenly, he was aware of everything around him. The trees, the birds, the smell of the crushed pine needles as the thick canopy of trees reached out, longing to envelop him…

The path seemed to stretch wider and wider, filling his entire vision. He became unaware of anything else as each step he took brought him closer to the dreaded challenge yet further from the one he was completing it for.

Taking a final deep breath, he plunged forward into the dark trees, feeling them as the shadow passed over his body like a shade, hearing them as their leaves rustled and their trunks creak and sensing them as the smell of nature erupted in his nostrils.

His journey was about to begin.

"Arya…wake up."

Arya could hear Islanzdi's voice floating to her from far away. Her head throbbed painfully…had she been attacked in the night? She forced herself to swim through the thick layers of sleep and cautiously opened her eyes, afraid of triggering another burst of agony.

She blinked as two Islanzdis' filled her vision. She reached out to the far side of Eragon's bed but her hand found nothing but a swath of soft fabric.

Alarmed, she twisted around, closing her eyes as pain exploded in her head. When she opened them, as she had found with her hands, she saw the empty space where Eragon should've lay.

"Eragon…?" she murmured feebly.

"He's gone," Islanzdi said a note of admiration in her voice. "Personally, I never thought he'd-

The rest of her words were lost to Arya. She had to find him. To stop him. Sitting up, she tried to push the covers off, they felt unbelievably heavy. She swayed from the effort and almost fell out of the bed had it not been for Islanzdi.

"Arya, are you alright?" Islanzdi's eyebrows met in a frown as she steadied her daughter.

What was happening? She sifted through her memories, trying to reconstruct everything that had happened last night.

"The drink…" she murmured, leaning over towards Eragon's side of the bed. Islanzdi pursed her lips and shot her a quizzical look but said nothing. As she had dreaded, he had drugged the drinks. His cup was still full. He had gone to a lot of effort to stop her from holding him back. He was truly one step ahead of her.

Now she wished Oromis never taught him about different poisons.

"Here, drink this," Islanzdi said, holding her another cup.

Arya gingerly accepted the cup and drank the liquid. It was a pleasant mixture of mints, honey and water. It helped to clear her mind and steady her shaking limbs.

Once again, she pushed on the covers, this time they moved aside easily. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as her bare feet struck the cold floor. It was a good thing they were the only part of her body bare at the moment, seeing as Islanzdi was here with her.

"Arya? Where are you going?" Islanzdi too, rose to her feet.

"I need…to find him," Arya murmured as she staggered out of the room before Islanzdi could stop her. How could she not expect this? It was good that he went to such efforts to prove his love for her but didn't he once consider the safety of the trip?

She forced the door to the entrance of the hall open and blinking once to clear the spots dancing before her eyes from the vibrant sun, looked around for Eragon, but he was no where to be seen. However, spotting Saphira, she ambled towards her.

Saphira swung her massive head around when she saw Arya staggering along. Concerned, she touched Arya's mind gently, _Arya are you alright?_

_Yes,_ Arya waved the question away. _Do you know where Eragon went?_

_Come,_ Saphira said, crouching so Arya could climb onto her back. _I doubt you could even crawl the distance. ___

Arya smiled and touched Saphira's flank gratefully before settling on Saphira's back. Faowing was nowhere in sight. _Where is he? _

_  
__He has gone hunting, but will return soon,_ Saphira replied. She bent her legs before leaping into the sky, the trees rushing up to greet them.

Arya closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning. The rush of cool wind which she had loved and treasured before now felt like a hurricane gone exceptionally wrong. Though it helped, Islanzdi's drink wasn't an antidote, merely a means of cover up.

Saphira twisted her neck to take one look at Arya. _He shouldn't have done it,_ she said darkly.

_All's fine,_ Arya replied, hoping Saphira wouldn't press the issue.

Saphira snorted. _You may thing all's fine for you…I won't guarantee it's the same for Eragon when you confront him and he realizes that the drug didn't work. _

_  
__Not entirely, _Arya confessed.

Eragon walked slowly down the winding path towards the mysterious door which would later lead him directly to the challenge. He half wished that Islanzdi would come back, informing him it was all a lie and there was no challenge.

But she didn't come.

Sighing, he trudged along, aware of exactly how isolated he felt at the moment. There was literally no one in sight. It seemed animal and elves alike knew that today was a special day and to honor that occasion, they must keep away from the action. It only made Eragon feel worse.

Looking up, the leaves on the surrounding trees rustled and he whipped around hopefully, wishing with all his heart it was Islanzdi. He frowned, perplexed when he saw not Islanzdi but Saphira flying down towards him.

At first, he could see nothing as the swirling dirt buffeted his vision. Raising an arm, he wrapped it around his face, protecting the venerable flesh. The wind, a stringing mass of debris, dirt and small leaves was delicate on their own yet deadly when grouped together like so.

But when Saphira finally landed, he swallowed as Arya slid off Saphira's back, unsteadily yet unassisted. What went wrong with the drug? How come it didn't last? Alarm and confusion flickered around in his head as he watched Arya dismount.

"Eragon? Why did you drug me?" she asked him accusingly though she already suspected the answer.

He looked away, ashamed and nervous. "I did what I must."

Arya advanced towards him silently, graceful even in her drugged state, and took his hands. "Eragon, you don't need to prove anything to anyone," she whispered.

Eragon shook his head. "This isn't only about what others say…I need to know how strong our love is."

"But why?" she asked, "Isn't it good enough as it is?"

"It is. Even better, but I still feel ignorant of it, I must find reassurance." There was a note of firmness in his voice, suggesting that this was the end of the conversation.

Arya sighed and pressed her head against his shoulder, tugging her hand free and embracing him. "There is nothing I can say to stop you?"

"There is, but I prefer you not to."

It was a tempting thought, but Arya knew she had better not try to breach Eragon's wish. "Is there nothing I can do to stop you either?"

"No."

"Very well. Go if you must but I am still at unease about it." But this wasn't the end; she had one last trick to stop Eragon.

"I do." He loosened her arms around him, holding her before him, a tenderness only reserved for her in his eyes. "I love you."

"And I, you," Arya replied, watching his eyes. _Now!_ Arya thought to herself. She leant forward and kissed him on the lips, he in turn, kissed her back. Saphira snorted and looked away. _Spare me the sight,_ she grumbled to herself.

Eragon didn't want to let go, and he could tell Arya was using this to her advantage; it was clear in her mind, a part in which she left unprotected while she was busily trying to stall him from what lay ahead.

Unwillingly, he broke away from her, gasping. "Please, Arya, don't make it any harder."

"I'm not," she replied, "I'm making it easier for you to abandon the task at hand."

"No, I will not." Eragon shook his head. "I need to show that I am good enough for you."

Arya tensed. "Eragon, don't listen to my mother. Nothing is good enough for her," she paused before adding, "Not even me," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Well, I'll try get as close as possible." He smiled at her one last time and before she could sway his decision anymore, he stepped through the door.

"No!" Arya cried after him. But it was too late, the door had vanished the instant Eragon had been swallowed up by it. She sank to her knees, not believing. Saphira approached her quietly.

_He is gone now. Do not dwell on his leaving but await his return._

Arya looked up at Saphira. How could she be this calm? Slowly, she drew herself to her normal height. _You may return to Faowing, thank you, Saphira._

Saphira tilted her head to eye Arya. _Are you sure? ___

_Yes. ___

_Where are you going? ___

_Somewhere to think…_

Saphira nodded her head, understanding Arya's need to be alone. She gently touched her shoulder with her snout before taking to the skies again. Arya watched as she faded into the blue sky, scales blending almost perfectly into the vast stretch of blue.

Arya stood silently for a few seconds. The wind rustling the leaves died away as Saphira disappeared over the canopy of the trees. The rich aroma of the earth was refreshing but the only thing that filled her mind and senses was the feeling of emptiness at Eragon's absence.

She breezed towards a small alcove and sat down on a nearby log. Strange, how she suddenly felt so strongly for him when only mere years ago, she would've been only too glad to be out of his youthful presence. _Youthful no more,_ she thought sadly, picturing what she would assume was set for him later on.

Something in bushes around the alcove moved and Arya looked up, suddenly alert. A pair of bright golden eyes stared out at her. The fact that this creature dared to come so close by its own will made Arya feel warming towards the animal.

Smiling slightly, she reached out with her hand while her mind coaxed the animal out. Slowly, a paw extended from beneath the neat row of bushes, followed by a broad chest, muzzle and then the rest of its body. It was a wolf.

The wolf was a handsome creature. His fur shone like liquid silver, flowing over his body, perfectly defining each muscle. The only mar in his beauty was the pink jagged scar that passed over his right eye. Even so, he was not displeasing to look at. His size suggested his strength and domination over other wolves.

Seeing wolves come so close was indeed rare. The creatures prided themselves by their wisdom and usually didn't bother waste their time on others who seemed inferior to them. This covered mostly every living thing in the world.

Te wolf pressed his head against Arya's hand. She marveled at the feel of the fur, warm from the sun which bathed it and silky as if the wolf had just stepped out of water.

By that one touch, Arya knew that this encounter was not just random and lucky. "Watch over him," she whispered to the wolf.

He blinked his eyes in return, the golden orbs unreadable before he turned tail and bounded away into the surrounding forests. He stopped at the last moment, turning his majestic head back to observe Arya.

Would the wolf help him? That was doubtful… He probably didn't even understand what she had said. Eragon would have to fend for himself.

"Choose the safest path…" she murmured to the empty air.

Looking up, she realized the wolf had gone.

Gone as Eragon had deserted her.

Gone as the wolf had left her.

Gone as her hope had disappeared.

Eragon looked around in surprise; the leafy forests were gone now, replaced with a rocky path leading towards a large granite cliff overlooking the surrounding valleys.

A silver gate lay before him; its bars gleamed brilliantly like polished jewels. Beside it, sat a wolf. His fur was beautiful, sleek and glowering silver, contrasting against the dull rocks and boulders that lay scattered around. The wolf's golden eyes, for they were not merely yellow watched him intently, filled with their own wisdom. A scar cut across its right eye, standing out in its pinkish glory compared to the silver of his fur. The scar of a warrior.

Eragon stopped before the wolf, not understanding why and inclined his head respectively to the wolf. The wolf, on the other hand, made no movement other than to flick his tail.

Feeling foolish, Eragon took a step towards the gate instead, which was when the wolf finally moved towards him. Muscles rippled under the thick coat as he walked, regal in both looks and actions.

The wolf came so close he could feel its hot breath tickling his hand. Eragon froze, transfixed, wondering where the wolf had come from. Such cliffs didn't seem to do justice to the majestic creature standing before him.

The wolf then licked his hand, its rough tongue prickling against his skin. Eragon felt a smile creep onto his face. Then the wolf turned and sat down by the gate again, cocking his head at Eragon, beckoning him forward.

Eragon moved up to the gate and pushed it open. The door swung inwardly, the bars vanishing from Eragon's line of vision, giving him a good look at what lay ahead. He took a deep breath; there was no turning back once he passed. He stepped through the now open gate, looking around him curiously.

He cautiously stepped towards the base of the mountain before him. He paused once there, looking back at the wolf.

He was still sitting there, golden eyes following Eragon. Somehow, he got the impression the wolf was guarding him…watching his back.

"Thank you," he murmured before facing the rocky path again. The pebbles and dust below his feet was unsteady to stand on and sharp.

He grunted as he skirted around another narrow stretch of road. _I wish Saphira was here, he grumbled to himself. I would already be up at the top by now. _

By the time he had reached the top, his chest was rising up and down hard, breath ragged as the sun began his downward dip, retreating for the night. In the dying light of the day, Eragon looked around from his position on top of the craggy mountain.

The temple, if it were what he saw, seemed to be extremely far away. The building itself was barely visible even from his height. Stars began to flicker to life in the darkening sky, illuminating the air around him with a silvery glow.

Looking down, Eragon saw two paths which twisted and turned, disappeared and reappeared leading towards the temple, confirming his theories on the location of the sacred place. Eragon knew his best chance of survival was probably to follow either one of the paths; he dared not to stray from them in case he became lost. But which one would he take?

The path to his left, was visibly longer, though it's journey looked more comfortably placed, less disappearances and less obstacles which seemed to pollute the rocky ground. But following that path would take a long time, possibly even years.

The second path, the one to his right, was shorter, cutting close to rivers and clumps of forests. A dark shadow seemed to hover about the ground, as if dangerous foes lurked at every corner. Though dangerous, this path would take shorter.

Sighing, he walked towards a small cave set to the side of the mountain and withdrew into it, allowing the cool shadow to caresses his aching limbs. Yawning, he settled down on one of the rocks, a crude bed.

He didn't have to worry about that today. That could wait until tomorrow, tomorrow when he will begin the challenge. But for now, he could forget it all. Except the reason why he was taking up such a risk as the challenge.

_Arya…_


	5. Realistic Illusions

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: For all those who read this fiction, sorry for the untimely delay with updating. I've long forgotten about writing (even though that's not really a valid excuse because well, this story is already finished) so I guess I should say that I forgot about updating. Only a recent review from PaCho de Nacho which wounded up in my emails reminded me so thank you for the reminder ;) Also, if I don't reply to reviews etc, that does not mean I don't love them! I truly do, just that I can't really figure out how to reply and all that stuff anymore :D Also note that this story was written before the release of the Eragon movie and Brisingr. Happy reading!_

**Realistic Illusions**

Darkness.

That was the first thing Eragon was aware of when he woke up the next morning. Utterly complete darkness. For a frightening few seconds, he thought he had died and that he was now lying in some semi-trance world where he was neither fully alive yet neither fully dead. It was truly a bizarre experience.

A dripping sound echoed throughout the deep cavity in which he was lying reminding him of his current whereabouts. A cave. He was lying in a cave in some crazy challenge Islanzdi had set up for him. And worst of all, he was all alone.

Sitting up, he bent his arms to get some feeling and warmth back into them. His tunic and especially his leather traveling pants felt stiff from the cold in the cave during the night. Groggily, he pried himself off the ground, shivering as his palms touched the icy stone beneath him.

Was it still night? No, there was light flittering somewhere in the distance… Gently massaging his side from where his sword's hilt had dug into him, he walked towards the light at the far end of the cave which he assumed was the entrance. Instantly, warm sun light exploded all around him, welcoming him into the bright embrace of day.

Yawning like a cat, he padded out of the cave, leaving behind him the dark, murky shadows and made his way to the edge of the cliff again. Everything was exactly the same as it was yesterday. The two paths still cut down the sides of the mountain and snaked their ways towards the temple.

The temple, now in full light looked even further away than it had last night. And strangely enough, though it was probably mid-morning, a few stray stars still blinked weakly above it.

A soft wind tugged at him, reminding him just how exposed he was at the moment. A part of him always seemed to be exposed to someone or something. Sighing, he surveyed the paths again.

Last night, he had decided to take the shorter route, but what if it was far harder than he expected? What if he couldn't get out of it alive because it was so much more dangerous? Would he be doomed to stay here forever until even his bones turned to dust?

He kicked a rock in frustration, watching it bounce off the side of the mountain and disappear far below. He wished that he only had one choice to choose from, variety makes things much more difficult.

He stood there for several minutes, weighing the possibilities. He had to make the right choice, and he would only have one chance to decide. He soon realized that was the true nature of the challenge, difficult and endangering.

Looking behind him one last time to get his bearings, he turned right and began the slow descent down the mountain towards the eastern side of the temple. Speed would pass unnoticed but perhaps the few precious kilometers he would save by this route would be more noticeable.

-----

Arya stared glumly out the window of her room, watching the sun make the tedious journey upwards over the canopy of thick trees. It looked as if the trees were strong enough to block out the sun but finally, the sun broke through, penetrating the dark leaves and bathing her whole room in brilliant sunshine.

She turned back towards her table where the preserved Black Morning Glory sat. It was one of the only ones which had remained black; perhaps there was something consoling in that itself.

Picking it up, she twisted it around in her fingers, thinking about the time when Faolin had given it to her. A small smile lifted her lips as the memory came back but it soon disappeared when she realized that no matter how dear the memory was to her, it was rapidly fading. Another man had taken his place and now even the smallest moments with him escalated past those with Faolin, no matter how big in comparison.

Arya looked up at the fairth she had made of Faolin so long ago and wondered why she hadn't made one of Eragon before he left. At least that way she would've had some way to see him even if he were printed only on a slab of stone. No, it would've been worse, because then it would only make her want to see the real version of him, the breathing one.

Just thinking about him made her furious towards Islanzdi. Her mother didn't seem to have any kindness in her, sending Eragon off like that. And who had the right to give approval towards their relationship?

Clearly Islanzdi but still, she shouldn't be. She didn't have any problems with Faolin. But then of course, he wasn't a rider, or as Islanzdi put it "a race which cannot be trusted with intimate matters".

Right now, she didn't want to talk to or even look at her mother, but of course, she didn't have much choice anyway. Though she was Islanzdi's daughter, that didn't give her privileges to just ignore her, after all, Islanzdi was the queen and what was Arya? She was just another elf that happened to have some royal blood. That meant almost nothing.

Replacing the flower on the wooden table, she headed out of the door, intending to go brood somewhere else, the room only seemed to make her feel even more lonely. She was too busy wrapped up in her thoughts she barely noticed Islanzdi until she was face to face with her.

"Arya, I was hoping to talk to you," Islanzdi began, recovering quickly from Arya's sudden appearance.

Arya felt compelled to just walk past but knew better not to. "I'm sorry, but I was just about to go visit Faowing." She stepped to her right but Islanzdi stepped to her left, blocking her way.

"Faowing has gone hunting, has he not?" Islanzdi asked Arya.

God, Faowing always knew when the best time to hunt was. Arya shifted uncomfortably, thinking of another excuse. "Well, in that case, I will just go for a walk then."

"May I come with you?"

Arya glared at her mother, she knew that there was no way Arya could deny her. It wasn't even a question. "I suppose so," she replied stiffly before walking past Islanzdi without even waiting for her.

They walked out of Tialdari hall and breezed down a side path leading towards the Menoa tree. Arya was keen to keep her distance from Islanzdi but Islanzdi seemed comfortable just to walk at Arya's half walk, half jog speed.

"You're angry with me," Islanzdi murmured softly, breaking the previous silence. Arya looked sideways at Islanzdi but chose to remain silent.

When Arya didn't speak, Islanzdi sighed. "You are, aren't you?" From her tone, it was clearly evident that this was not the first time.

"What if I am?" Arya snapped back finally. Eragon had always said she was never open to anyone, hopefully she was now. She turned to face Islanzdi; Islanzdi paused in her tracks and looked back. "I have complete reason to."

"Arya, how many times do I have to tell you," she paused as she caught up with Arya who had started walking briskly again. "That this is for the best?"

"The best for you or the best for me?" Arya challenged hotly, keeping her eyes focused up ahead.

Islanzdi paused as she considered the question. "For both."

"I know how I feel about this and I assure you, it is not the best."

"That is what you think," Islanzdi replied. "Do you not understand that this challenge is not designed to keep you two apart? It is a test of your passion."

"A test which Eragon shouldn't have to take," Arya said. "What if he never returns? What if I never see him again?" She regretted saying those words; she was giving away too much detail of herself.

Dismayed, she looked down and continued to walk along the path, hoping that it led somewhere, for she had no idea where she was going.

"Arya, do you not place your faith in him? I thought you said you knew him, if you do, then you would know that he would do anything possible to be by your side."

"Why are you talking like this?" Arya argued. She didn't want to listen to Islanzdi. A part of her knew that her words were true, but what if her faith proved false? What would happen then?

"Because, I know how you feel," Islanzdi whispered softly, reaching out to hold Arya's wrist. Arya didn't move. "I know what you are going through, the fear, and the nervous agitation."

"How, mother?" Arya asked quietly. "You've never had someone you love taken away, sent on some death ridden challenge just for approval."

Islanzdi looked down. With her dark hair obscuring her face, she looked exactly like Arya. "You are mistaken. I too have had a loved one taken away, though it was due to my own foolishness." Now she looked up, a somber expression in her eyes. "Do not forget. I almost lost you, Arya; you do not know how that felt."

"But that is how I feel towards Eragon now," Arya replied bitterly. Her mother would not so easily win her over.

"That is why I can help you." Islanzdi's voice was gentle, almost warm. "You are simply walking in my footsteps, I have seen it, felt it, and I understand how you feel."

"No thank you." Arya smiled grimly at her mother, pulling her wrist away. "I prefer to do this on my own. Footsteps fade quickly, and I have no desire to rush to follow yours."

-----

Eragon reached the bottom of the mountain by noon. Once there, he entered the welcomed shade of some clumps of forests. He sighed in relief, rubbing his eyes which seemed to have been burned dry from the constant lashing of the sun.

He looked around him. Yes, these surroundings were a lot different from the one he had just come from. And judging from as far as he could see, it would stay like this for some time. That was good; he wasn't too willing to face the harsh beat of the sun on his unprotected much longer.

Unfortunately, he couldn't help noticing that this new path wasn't entirely good news. He could barely make out the temple as it tried unsuccessfully to squeeze through the tiny spaces between tree trunks and thick, bushy canopies. No matter, all he had to do was go forward.

-----

As he walked, Eragon looked down at his feet. It was disappointing looking towards the temple and realizing how far away it still was, looking down was more encouraging, every step took him closer as his surroundings melted away.

By now, he was so used to walking that his feet were numb from the constant thrashing they received from the hard packed ground. It didn't even feel like he was wearing boots at all.

When he had tried to coax a tame-looking horse so that he could ride it, he had been thrown off purposely. After that, he had deduced that no horse, no matter how tame it looked was to be trusted and he had kept to that promise, he had not ridden a horse since.

So even now, with the dust still coating his body and throat, Eragon continued to march on. Between the stamping of his feet, Eragon could hear the faint gurgle of a river up ahead. Good, the river was bound to be a good sign; he had seen that it was pretty close to the temple.

But then a faint whistle sounded, disrupting his quiet thoughts. Eragon's head whipped up suddenly alert. He stood his ground, listening intently. He had known that trouble must've been near; the journey had gone past too peacefully so far.

Reaching down, Eragon drew his sword out, the metal rasping in protest. In comparison to the dark, lush greens around him, Eragon's blade looked oddly out of place. The whistling music seemed to have stopped, as if the harsh screech of the sword had frightened it away.

Then it came again, the soft wailing of some wooden instrument, perhaps a pipe. Crouching low to make himself less visible, Eragon quietly scuttled towards the sound, careful to avoid stepping on any branches.

Another wail, louder this time sounded to Eragon's left. It led off the path so Eragon looked around once, memorizing the path for future reference before forsaking it and heading into the undergrowth that loomed on either side of the road.

Eragon wasn't sure how far he had gone in but he was dimly aware as he wove deeper into the heart of the forest, the bushes seemed to grow bigger, fiercer. It seemed to take forever to reach the source of the music. The source seemed to be coming from a nearby bush.

Frowning, Eragon crouched even lower so whenever he took a step, his knee would scrape against the soft dirt beneath his feet. Moving fast so that he would be concealed in the shadows quickly, he scrambled over to the bush, heart pounding furiously as adrenalin pumped through his whole body, anxious at what he would find.

Sheathing his sword, he grabbed the hilt of his dagger instead and cut a small eye hole amongst the thick leaves of the bush and peered through to the other side.

Sitting on a smooth boulder was a man. He couldn't have been much older than Eragon with his laid back attitude. His clothing was of the finest make, they looked battered from traveling yet the craftsmanship was still clearly visible. And in the man's hands was a wooden pipe, the colour of ebony which he had just lifted to his lips again.

Eragon listened as the man played a small tune, his audience only that of his surroundings. What had even drawn Eragon here? All the man was doing was sitting on a rock and playing a pipe!

The music stopped.

"You know, I would've expected more from a rider."


End file.
